


A Monarch's Knowledge

by KlockWork_Proxy



Series: User's from Another Plateform [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Beauty - Freeform, Butterflies, Butterfly Effect, Love, The End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27163648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlockWork_Proxy/pseuds/KlockWork_Proxy
Summary: I noticed how everyone finds beauty in the smallest things but how does the beauty we see feel back? As a child, I always loved butterflies and found so much beauty in them.
Series: User's from Another Plateform [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982752
Kudos: 1





	A Monarch's Knowledge

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the person in my discord server for giving me this idea. I found it to be a joy writing about a butterfly, especially my favorite butterfly, the monarch. So I hope you guys enjoy this lovely message behind this story.

I don’t think many people realize how much a monarch means, how much my people mean to the silly aliens down below. The aliens that are giant and could squash my people easily. Aliens that can't fly unless they get into a strange box-like machine. A machine that has wings but they do now flap and are a dull gray with no colors like my own.

I know the colors that are stained on my wings of elegant oranges. Black rivers stream through them and reach the dark edge of my wings and with closer inspection, you could see white dots along my wings. Almost like stars shining against a night sky and a blazing orange fire. 

But I remind people that not all pretty things last as I flew through the air with tiredness. I knew every path that could happen in my life, like the black rivers that streamed upon my fiery wings. They all led to one event that happens to everyone. The end. 

I know the end is close with my people but the aliens seem to enjoy our beauty even if we are to die. They plant us colorful flowers with names I do not know and give us nectar that is as sweet as love.

Love. Something everyone goes through and even with my people but I don’t feel the need to talk about it. For you see, love is something you can not find through someone else but your own. That’s because everyone is different like me and my people. Each of us is different, especially on our wings. Our wings tell our story and how it comes to an end but we live on in our young, giving them the same beauty we once held in our lively wings.

And so the cycle never ends as we live through our journey and meet the end so our young can grow. I suppose it’s the same for those silly aliens. The aliens that find beauty in the smallest things and in the smallest amounts. But how could I know what humans think? I’m but a simple beauty in the ocean of blue we call the sky.


End file.
